


The Best That I Could

by EveryMomentStronger



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author can't write, Author doesn't know what they're doing, Fire Family Feels, Fire Nation Royal Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Ozai is not trying, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Relationship(s), Protective Zuko (Avatar), The Search Comics (Avatar), Ursa (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Ursa finds out about Zuko's scar, Ursa made mistakes but she is trying, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko's Scar (Avatar), and the family feels, i only know how to write angst, lol whats a pronoun, mostly Comic Compliant, think of the angst, we are missing so much angst potential, well happy-ish at least, why is that not a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28986762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryMomentStronger/pseuds/EveryMomentStronger
Summary: Ursa's visit to Ozai in prison reveals the terrible truth that as hard as she tried to protect her children, it wasn't nearly enough.Or: Ursa finds out about Zuko's scar from the worst possible source
Relationships: Ozai/Ursa (Avatar), Ursa & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 139





	The Best That I Could

**Author's Note:**

> TW for mentioned domestic abuse, obviously child abuse (because it's Zuko), emotional manipulation on Ozai's part, guilt, implied PTSD. Ummm.... I think that's it, but please please tell me if I missed something and be gentle with yourselves, ok?
> 
> Ok, so I know that a lot of people don't love the comics, and I have mixed feeling about them myself. But this fic is mostly comic compliant, because I'm too lazy to think up my own headcannon for where Ursa was during the events of ATLA :P If you're not familiar with the comics, here's the sparknotes version:
> 
> After learning on the Day of Black Sun that his mother is still alive, Zuko goes looking for her, taking along Azula, Mai, and sundry gaang members. They find out a few important things: firstly, that Ursa sent a letter to her ex-boyfriend claiming that Zuko was his son instead of Ozai's, and secondly that after being banished Ursa had gone to find ex-boyfriend and got married to him. However, Ursa had lost/given up all her memories of Ozai and her children, and it takes a life-changing field trip with Zuko to restore them to her. Upon regaining her memories, Ursa tells Zuko that there was no way Ozai wasn't his father, and she had only said it to find out whether Ozai was intercepting her letters. He seems disappointed, but is happy to bring Ursa, Kiyi, and Ursa's husband home to the palace.
> 
> In my opinion, these relationships are chock-full of untapped angst/family drama/family feels potential, and I was horrified to find that there are practically no "Ursa finds out about Zuko's scar" fics. I whipped up this story really quick, and honestly, it's not that good. But I'm hoping that by writing it, some better writer will see it and be able to write this Zuko & Ursa fic as well as it deserves to be written.

Iroh said it would be closure.

He was too wise to miss the way she stopped breathing when she heard footsteps in the halls, or the way she pressed close to Ikem at the mention of the Firelord ( _Zuko, now; not him, he is not here, he can’t hurt you now)_. Over tea, Iroh had apologized again for his brother’s actions, setting his cup down and taking her cold hands in his warm, gentle ones. And he had suggested a visit to prison.

In the garden, with the scent of jasmine in her nose and the sun’s warmth kissing her hair, it had seemed like a good idea. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

Ursa shivered and drew her cloak tighter around her. The prison was cold and dark; she knew that, expected it. But the chill seemed to freeze her lungs and stab all the way into her soul. Her hands, twisted together in the sleeves of her robe, were trembling. By request, she was alone. She had stood with Ozai on his coronation day, slept in his bed beside him for years, brought his two children into the world. She could face him now… couldn’t she?

_I’m not ready, I can’t do this, I can’t-_

Ursa bit down on the inside of her cheek and squared her shoulders. She would not give in to him, not this time. She stepped around the corner on legs that barely held her.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him. The returning memories had showed her many versions of her former husband, but all of them large, powerful, always in control. She had never seen him like this. Dressed in ragged clothes, hair drooping across his face, features pinched and paled and sharpened – this was the Firelord truly defeated.

“Oh, Ozai…”

She hadn’t realized she’d spoken until gold eyes snapped up and caught her gaze. Ursa rocked back on her heels, forgetting to breathe, as a slow smile spread across her ex-husband’s face.

“Ursa.” He drew her name out slowly, tasting it, holding the memories _(humiliation, rejection, hot breath on her face asking her to kill for him, his hands growing hot and blistering while she weeps beneath them)_ , and he smiled. “My dear wife. You’ve returned.”

“Zuko found me,” she snapped, “and I’m not your wife! I am married to Ikem now. You failed to kill him all those years ago!” Ursa waited for Ozai’s face to show disbelief, jealousy, or rage.

But the old Firelord only grinned wider.

“Yes, I expected he’d bring back whatever wretched peasant you’d thrown yourself on; anything for Mother Dear.” He raised his voice in a mocking imitation. He laughed, and Ursa felt her heart shrivel under the sound.

“Tell me, wife,” he said, “did you ever tell Zuko about the letter concerning his parentage?”

“He knew about it. But I told him that it isn’t true.”

Ozai laughed again. “Oh, he must have been so very disappointed! But only a fool would have believed it in the first place; he looks so like me.” He raised his hand and studied it contemplatively. “My fingerprints are all across his face.”

Zuko did look like – wait. Ozai was grinning, like there was something she was missing, some double implication. Ursa’s heart rammed the back of her throat as her son’s face appeared in her mind. Fingerprints? A burn scar in the shape of a hand… oh no. He hadn’t – that wasn’t possible.

_Please, no._

At the look on her face, Ozai burst into roaring laughter.

“After all you did to ‘protect’ him, and you failed after all!”

The world shattered, and all the shrapnel speared her heart. Ursa flung herself against cold bars, hands curled into claws, reaching to cut the man who’d hurt her child. Her vision flickered red and she could hear echoes of the feral scream torn from her throat. Her world narrowed to a pinprick until arms were wrapping around her and peeling her away from the iron bars.

“Lady Ursa, are you alright? Are you injured?” Ursa recognized the voice of one of the door guards, and suddenly the trance was broken. She was aware of salty tears in her mouth, bruises forming on her face where she’d bashed herself trying to get to Ozai. She needed her children. She needed Zuko. With an effort, she smothered her sobs down to broken gasps.

“Get my son,” she managed, “and please get me out of here.”

“Of course, my lady!”

The guard steadied her on his arm and led her gently up the hall. He was trying to be slow and careful, but Ursa tugged ahead. The awful knives in her chest wouldn’t stop twisting until she saw her babies safe. Her sweet, beautiful babies… one who had an awful burn scar he hadn’t explained.

The guard shifted Ursa onto one arm and reached for the prison door. Warm sunshine spilled into the corridor, and Ursa was momentarily blinded. She pulled an arm over her face and let her body crumple as the guard set her down and leaned her against the wall.

Dampness from the ground immediately seeped into her robes, but the sun was warm on her dark hair. With a hiccup, she closed her eyes and tried for deep breaths. The guard started to tell her he would go and get the Firelord, but his words were cut off by a rasping shout.

“MOTHER!”

Zuko himself was pelting across the grass in a blur of black and red. The sight of him shattered Ursa’s composure again. Sobs were wracking her body as she struggled to stand, but then Zuko was there, sinking down beside her and pulling her close. Her son was warmer than the sunshine, even through layers of formal robes, radiating the natural heat of a master firebender. He smelled vaguely of smoke, ink, and new parchment. He was here, solid and alive and _here_ with his strong arms wrapped around her. In the years of her absence, he had become a fine young man.

“Oh, Mother.” Zuko grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away. “What happened? What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were going to see him?”

Her beautiful baby. He could never look like Ozai, not with one side of his face looking so gentle as he held her, so much kinder than his father had ever been. But the other side-

Ursa choked on a sob. She reached out a shaking hand to touch ruined flesh, permanently burnt into a red scowl.

Zuko let her touch him, and followed her eyes to the left side of his face. The gentleness fell from his expression, sudden realization chased by and horror and rage. He wrenched away from her with a snarl, both hands igniting and sparks leaping from his nostrils.

“He had no right!” Zuko’s voice was a roar. “He had no right to tell you! I’m going to kill him!” He takes two steps toward the prison door before a guard stops him with a hand on his bicep.

“My lord, please, not now, the Avatar has declared that-”

Zuko whirled toward the man with fire streaming from lips. The guard stepped back, but his face remained calm.

“My lord, think of your mother. She needs you.”

As quick as it came, the fury melted from Zuko’s face and his fire went out. He was left tugging anxiously at his hair, rasping “Of course, of course, I’m sorry,” with his shoulders slumped like a chastised child’s. The ferocious Firelord disappeared into the awkward, earnest child Ursa had known. Carefully, he knelt in front of her, reaching gently to take her hands.

“I’ll tell you everything that happened, Mother, but first let’s get you inside, ok?”

Ursa let Zuko lead her back into the palace _(Not filled with Ozai, now, but haunted by the smell of burnt flesh and the last echoes of a child’s scream)_ and set a cup of tea in her hands. He grimaced as he sipped at his own tea and stared at it balefully.

“I guess I’m still not as good at tea as Uncle,” he muttered.

“Zuko.”

The expression he gave her when she said his name was so lost and ashamed that Ursa almost wanted to take it back, wanted to gather her boy in her arms and drink his bitter tea and tell him that it didn’t matter. But she needed to know. Zuko settled back with a sigh and stared into his teacup. The lamps on the walls started to flicker in time with his breath as he carefully emptied his voice of emotion. When he spoke, it was in a flat, factual tone.

“He challenged me to an Agni Kai.”

Ursa’s heart stopped. People died in Agni Kais. Her son had been in an Agni Kai with his merciless father. Terror, useless so many years too late, pumped through her veins, and she took a gulp of tea to stop her hands from shaking in her lap.

“I wanted to attend a war meeting. Just to learn; I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But I did.”

Zuko dared a quick glance at her face. He turned a few shades paler when he met her eyes, immediately looking back down and starting to babble.

“I didn’t mean to say anything, I really didn’t, because Uncle told me to keep my mouth shut and I tried to, but there was this general, and a plan, and they were just going to kill a bunch of recruits, and I go so mad, he called them ‘fresh meat,’ and I just got so angry-” he paused to suck in a breath and snatched up his tea. After a long moment, he resumed the story, sounding a bit more in control.

“Father said that for disrespecting the general, I had to fight an Agni Kai. I thought that I was going to be fighting the general, but…” he took another breath, and the lanterns leaped in response. Ursa could feel her heart pounding against her ribs, tears already sliding from the corners of her eyes. She knew where this was going. She wanted to reach out for the dead, broken skin on her son’s face imagining how much it must have hurt, how scared he must have been _(how much she hadn’t been there when he’d needed her)_.

“Father said it was him I’d disrespected and I had to fight him but I wouldn’t and he wouldn’t let me forfeit so he burned me and then banished me and said I couldn’t come home until I found the Avatar.” Zuko finished in a rush, and the lanterns returned to normal.

Ursa didn’t want to speak. She didn’t want to hear more. But she had to know.

“How- how old were you?”

Zuko coughed and he started fiddling with the edge of his cape _(it was the same tell as when he’d been caught sneaking pies from the kitchen and was wearing Lu Ten’s too-big training shirt, the time when he was saying “Dad would never do that to me!” and clutching at his blankets)_.

Cold buckets of ice water poured down Ursa’s spine. 

“Zuko.”

The firelord looked up to meet her eyes. Fiery gold shimmered with unshed tears.

“Mom,” he said softly, “it’s not your fault. You know that, right?”

She waited. He looked away. He sighed deeply. Then, slowly, he turned back to meet her eyes.

“I was thirteen,” he whispered.

_What?_

She was never sure how he ended up in her arms so quickly, but the next thing she knew was black hair and red robes pressed against her face, Zuko’s arms around her while she shook uncontrollably.

_My baby, my baby, my baby. You were just a child, it never should have happened to you, if only I had been there, oh baby I’m so sorry-”_

“Mom, Mom!” Zuko pushed her away and held onto her shoulders. “It’s not your fault.”

Ursa sobbed but wiped at her eyes with a sleeve, gasping to be able to talk.

“I…should have…been there I’m SO-… I’m so sorry, love-“

Zuko reeled her back into the hug, and Ursa tried to focus on the feeling of him, the sound of his heartbeat in her ear. She wanted to hold him until the end of time, until the world swung back on a pendulum and started the whole thing again, until she was back at where they had been before, making different decisions, finding better ways to protect her children. The warmth pulsing from Zuko’s chest fought to dry her tears, but they came to quick and soaked his shirt through.

“Mom,” he tried again, “there’s nothing you could have done.” His arms tightened around her to stop her from replying.

“You killed Firelord Azulon.” It was a statement, not a question, but Ursa nodded into his tunic anyway. “Then there’s nothing you could have done. If you had stayed in the palace, you would have died.” That was also a statement. Ursa shook her head weakly, but both of them knew it was true.

Zuko sighed into her shoulder. “He told me that he was going to kill me, you know,” he said. “The only reason he didn’t was because you stepped in, and that’s why he made you leave. You saved my life. It’s not your fault.”

Ursa sniffled. Zuko rubbed circles into her back, his hands warm _(but not too warm, because in spite of it all he hadn’t become Ozai)_ and smiled into the crook of her neck.

“We won, Mom,” he said. “We’re both alive and he’s in jail for the rest of his life. I think that’s what counts.”

That… that was not all that counted. Their pain counted, too. What he had put them through counted. But Zuko was right. They were alive.

Her son released her from the hug and sat back on his heels. Red rimmed his good eye, but a tiny smile played on his lips. His father’s handprint was stamped into the side of his face, but if Ursa looked past it she could still see her beautiful little boy, grown up into his role as leader and healer of the nation.

She cleared the tears from her throat and smiled back at him.

“I think having me visit Ozai wasn’t one of your uncle’s wiser ideas.”

The golden laugh that spilled from Zuko was all the closure Ursa needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, like I said: this isn't my best writing by a long shot. But if you got any enjoyment at all out of it, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know what you thought (Because I am insecure and my soul shrivels without approval from internet strangers *fingerguns*)!


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